No Regrets
by Katrapolis
Summary: One shot set in the three years. What can lead to the first step isn't always tangible and isn't always black and white. MA for language.


No Regrets

_It wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't even love after a month or six. It wasn't "written in the stars" or whispered in a quiet prayer. It was something inexplicable,__unintended, and so seemingly sudden._

* * *

Licking her lips she shifted her weight to lean against the counter. Phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, she managed the tiny screw driver into the screw on the bot.

"Uh huh, yeah babe I'm listening. What happened to Ryo then? Is he suspended?" she asked, nudging the phone up with her shoulder.

"We don't know yet, but he decked the pitcher so hard he – " The bot slipped from her grip, crushing her foot.

"Damn it!" she shrieked, dropping the phone as she hopped on the uninjured leg and grasped her throbbing toes.

"B? Bulma what's going on?!" Yamacha asked through the phone.

"Owww! Holy Kami why are those things so heavy?!" She glared spitefully at the broken droid rolling around hear the phone Yamcha was still speaking through.

With a groan she reluctantly knelt and picked the receiver up.

"-lright B? Do I need to head over, did that jerk do something to you?"

"What?" she replied, holding the phone closer to her ear as if she had misheard what her boyfriend had said. "No of course not! I just dropped a bot on my foot."

"A bot? You were working on a bot? I knew you weren't listening to me!" Yamcha snapped.

"Excuse you!" Bulma spat, putting hand to hip and gripping the phone tighter. "Just because your Neanderthal brain can't do more than one thing at once doesn't mean I've got the same limitations buddy!"

"That's rich coming from you! If I so much as dare to glance at my phone you go ballistic!"

"Well that's because you're waiting for your next groupie to fawn over you," she sniped.

"Are you seriously going there _again?"_

"No I'm not. Goodbye Yamcha. Call me when you're ready to apologize for being an asshole." She hit the End Call button fiercely and threw the phone across the room. "What a JERK! Why I outta go over there and –"

"Woman do you fucking _mind_? Some of us don't care about your meaningless issues."

Bulma spun around into the kitchen. In the doorway from the lawn stood Vegeta, arms crossed, lit from behind by the setting sun. Every bit the dark and dreary asshole she knew him to be.

"Kami Vegeta could you give a girl some warning when you do that creep stand in the door thing?"

" 'Creepy stand in the-' "

"Or better yet be like a normal person and don't stand in doorways," she continued. Wincing, she bent to retrieve the fallen bot.

"I do not stand in doorways waiting to scare you. Maybe if you weren't so busy yelling at Yanyan you would be more aware of your surroundings."

"His name is Yamcha! And I _am_ aware." He smirked and nodded towards the bot.

"So you mean to hurt yourself with that then?"

"Oh shut up. I'm doing _you_ the favor by working on this thing anyway."

"Yes I'm so grateful. I'm sure the repairs will hold for a whole hour this time."

God she hated this son of a bitch. Vegeta laughed and slinked towards the fridge.

"Such anger. You won't live long like that woman," he said gesturing towards her as he opened the fridge.

"You're one to talk! All you do is chase after Goku to fight you. I haven't seen you happy _once_ in what, two years? You're the one who isn't going to live long," she snapped, dropping the bot onto the counter.

His hand on the door of the fridge waved impatiently at her. It was always a bit comical to see Vegeta in the fridge since his pointy hair would bob up and down as he examined the shelves.

"Wasn't planning on it. Didn't you hear the brat – I'm dead in 14 months anyway."

Bulma stared blankly at the fridge, hearing but not hearing as Vegeta continued to complain about the contents.

_That's right, _she thought. _ Just over a year and we lose. They all die. And he's gone forever this time._

"Blasted woman, I told her to procure more of those meat stripes," Vegeta muttered, straightening out and pull the fridge open a bit wider.

Bulma stared at his profile, the way his chin dipped and the muscle at the base of his jaw clenched in frustration. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, battle suit torn, with scrapes along his exposed forearms. It was a painful thought, that he was not long for her world. Even if they managed to win, he would leave as he had been promising for the past two years. It didn't quite seem to be the happy ending it had been before.

She slowly crossed the kitchen, stopping next to the open fridge. He turned his glare towards her with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you want now?" he snapped. She met his glare, feeling her chest swell up with dread of his eventual loss. She pushed the fridge closed.

"You aren't dying," she stated firmly.

"Woman –" She stepped forward, almost chest to chest and leaned in. He smelled like hard work.

"You are not dying," she repeated forcefully. He met her glare with one of his own, his lips pulled back in a sneer.

"I don't have time for – " he began as he turned to leave.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him back. Caught off guard, he let her.

"No you son of a bitch, you are not dying. I am not putting all this work into your training for you to die. You're going to defeat those androids and come home. Do you understand?"

He stared at her, fiercely, and she could see him furiously trying to determine her movives. As they held the gaze though, she felt it – two years of tension. Like magnets, creating force and energy, snapping against each other, pushing and pulling. Two years of heated arguments and oddly, quiet shared silences.

His hand shifted in hers to grab her wrist. He pulled her against him and her other hand instinctively bracing against his chest. Closer now she felt his break across her face.

"I don't answer to you," he growled. Her hand closed into a fist in his body suit, her nails scraping against the fabric.

"Do you really expect me to believe the big bad Prince of all Saiyans is going to let some recycled toasters send him to Otherworld?" she murmured, leaning in towards him.

"Tch, you foolish woman," he replied. His free hand slid across her waist and pressed against her lower back. "How dare you think you can be so bold in my presence?" His words were hot on her lips.

"Never been much for following the rules," she whispered. All she saw was his dark smirk as he leaned in and consumed her in a kiss.

* * *

A/N: Just something that's been kicking around.


End file.
